This letter is supposed to be about Fling, huh? Is that what y'all want?
Well good. Because that's what I was gonna make it about anyways.
Here's the thing: Fling isn't that serious. I'm not gonna pretend like that's novel information, but it's something I feel the constant need to remind myself. Didn't get tickets to the Magical Pool Party? Don't worry.
As I move towards becoming a busted, crotchety senior, I am prone to reflecting on the ghosts of Flings past. I mean I've only been to the one in my freshman spring since I missed the festivities last year for reasons out of my control.
Still, by my measure, Fling seems to have changed a lot. There seem to be an overwhelming amount of paid–for, ticketed, wristbanded, and otherwise partially restricted events as compared to previous years. In a typical Penn fashion, we've moved towards further social segmentation, at least in terms of the more prominent events. Doors are closing, instead of opening.
I appreciate Spring Fling for what it is: widespread immoral buffoonery. Celebration of the warm weather. Bonding amongst extracurricular organizations. And the like.
Fling is the single time each year when nearly every Penn student drops their commitments to come together with their fellow classmates. In theory, it provides us with the time to reconnect with all the friends we've been to busy to see, to pop off (metaphorically) when things are heating up the most. I appreciate the brunches, pregames, midday breaks, and other intimate events that Fling brings, much more than the parties themselves.
The in–betweens are so much more memorable. If I've gained any wisdom during my time as a Quaker, it's that it's important to appreciate the things you can neither plan nor control. It's a great exercise in patience–building. It's taught me to be more appreciative of smaller things.
I believe it was cupcaKke that said "Life is about the journey, not the destination." It was that, or something about "***** in a ****** *** ****, you ********."
